For the entirety of my now 54 years (oh my God), I have secretly described myself as a lone wolf. One who travels best as an only. Understand that I love my husband and children beyond the reaches of the Universe, but inside I have acknowledged that when by myself I breathe more peacefully. That is until now.
The children (haha they are 21), have moved into their own lives. My husband and I see them on select vacations but that is dwindling down to a week here and there. As the offspring becomes less visible my spouse has invested more fully in his occupation, as have I. What was once a bustling metropolis, is frequently just two dogs awaiting dinner.
Due to a work trip sandwiched next to a visit to see our son my husband would be gone for close to two weeks. I was to be left completely to my own devices. Inwardly I jumped up and down with wild expectation at the deep sea of one-ness. Imagine my surprise when only half way through that deep blue ocean, I found myself missing.
I missed someone sneaking a peak at my tits while I undressed for the bath and being awakened by a loud rankling snore.
I missed arguments over who stole the hairbrush, left dirty dishes in the sink or discovering stinking dirty socks curled under the bed in a ball.
I missed the companionship of the dream team snarking and laughing at the dinner table until the food grew cold.
On a morning three days before anyone would come home I am overcome by the sunrise. I have just awoken from a dream where I remembered a few truths.
Time is irrelevant.
God presents everything.
I am responsible for my own participation.
It isn't always about me.
Don't believe your own press, good or bad.
Knowing what is someone else's clarifies what is mine.
Gratitude is God.
The sunrise I captured with my phone, unable to share it in person with the people who matter. I am a lone wolf, but one of a pack I treasure.